‘So this is beer, huh?’
The color was clear and amber-like—surprisingly pretty. I sniffed at the cup cautiously.
‘They said it’s made from barley, but it doesn’t smell like grain at all…’
It was such a foreign scent that I hesitated, unable to take a sip right away.
‘I should’ve brought Pepe with me after all.’
Pepe—my only trustworthy companion in this world—flashed through my mind. Knowing now that even Emil and Rosianne had deceived me, Pepe was the one person I could rely on.
‘I’m really glad Pepe woke up. If this had happened while he was still unconscious, I think I would’ve completely broken down.’
I shook my head quickly to clear my thoughts.
‘I came all the way out here to be brave. And now I’m scared of a simple glass of beer? When I’m thinking about going to the capital?’
Living in the capital would be a completely different challenge. After being cooped up in the Kleene estate for so long, adjusting to life outside wouldn’t be easy.
‘Just a beer!’
Steeling myself, I grabbed the cup with both hands. With a deep breath and my eyes shut tight, I downed a gulp.
“Gah—!”
It tasted awful. Bitter and weird. The maid had said it was nice and refreshing… what part of this was refreshing!?
‘Why would they drink this?’
Bitter, sour, astringent. The beer tasted awful, and I couldn’t help but scrunch up my face. Then I noticed the stares, specifically, the tavern keeper watching me like I was some suspicious lunatic.
‘Ack!’
Right. I would’ve found it strange, too, if I saw someone order a drink, make a weird noise after just one sip, and then sit there looking like the world had ended.
I forced an awkward smile and clutched the glass with both hands. The tavern keeper gave me one more puzzled look before going back to wiping down tables. I hesitantly brought the cup back to my lips. The initial shock had worn off, and though the taste was still odd, I managed to take small sips.
‘Ugh, definitely the last time. I’m never drinking this again.’
Just this one glass. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to finish it off.
But the strange part was… the more I sat here, alone in this quiet, empty tavern with a cup of beer in hand, the more the storm in my heart churned.
‘How could Emil and Rosianne do this to me?’
I raked a hand through my hair and let out a hollow laugh. My chest felt tight, like something was clawing its way out.
‘We’ve known each other for years. No matter what else, weren’t we close enough to deserve honesty?’
Even if it wasn’t romantic love, Emil had always been like an older brother to me.
‘So what was he thinking? What about his feelings? He didn’t say a word. Just proposed to me… and then went off kissing Rosianne…’
Before I realized it, the glass was empty. I clicked my tongue and set it down. But strangely, my throat still felt parched.
When I glanced up, the tavern keeper was still busily cleaning. It felt awkward to ask for water, so I quietly poured myself another glass of beer and began sipping it again.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Just as I was about to stand up and pour another drink, my vision suddenly swayed.
‘Huh? Why does the floor feel like it’s tilting?’
Since I’d never been drunk before, I couldn’t even tell what was happening.
‘I think I’m going to throw up. Did I drink too much?’
I grabbed the edge of the table to steady myself—just then, a large hand gripped my shoulder.
“Huh?”
Startled, I looked up—and there he was.
I didn’t even know when he’d arrived, but a man with jet-black hair and eyes red as blood was standing right in front of me. His voice was low and heavy, like it had crawled up from the depths of the earth.
“You all right?”
“Uuh…”
My vision was too blurry to see his face clearly. Even so, I was sure of one thing—I had never seen this man before.
‘He feels… scary.’
Emil, neat and gentle, was like the warmth of a spring sun. But the man gripping my shoulder was nothing like him.
‘He’s like a wild wolf.’
The kind of presence that made you feel as if the slightest slip would get you bitten. I gently pushed his hand away and asked,
“Who… are you?”
My tongue was thick, and it took effort just to form the words. The man let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
“I’m the one who made you wait until you got this drunk.”
“… Pardon?”
Had I been waiting for him? Was I waiting for someone?
‘Ah… the man from the Veil Merchant Guild.’
It dawned on me a beat too late.
‘This stone-faced man is the one who posted that ridiculous ad looking for a girl with silver hair and green eyes?’
A laugh slipped out before I could stop it. I wasn’t even sure why, but it felt oddly funny.
“Yes, that’s right. I was waiting, yes.”
“… Sigh.”
His sigh washed over the top of my head. Maybe it was the alcohol giving me courage, but I just kept giggling like a fool. Honestly, I felt like I could even offer this man a drink right now.
He, too, seemed to decide I wasn’t in any condition to hold a proper conversation. With a long sigh, he reached for my face.
“If you’re going to ramble drunk, at least let me see your face. I need to know if you match the description.”
Something in me snapped at that moment. Even though I was swaying from the alcohol, the instant he tried to pull back my hood, a sharp, shrill scream burst out of me.
“Don’t!”
“….”
If I showed my face here—out in the open where anyone could see me—someone was bound to remember later.
‘And once word gets out, they’ll know I tried to leave the Kleene estate.’
If things didn’t go smoothly with this man, the fact that I was planning to escape might spread.
I couldn’t let that happen. Desperate, I clung to him.
“I don’t want others to see my face! I’ll show you when we’re alone, somewhere private!”
“Good grief…”
He sighed deeply again but didn’t push me away. Instead, he lifted a hand and gestured to the tavern keeper, who had been watching our back-and-forth with amusement.
“We’ll head upstairs for a moment.”
“Go ahead.”
I hadn’t known the tavern had a small attic upstairs where one could rest. That’s exactly where the man led me. He didn’t close the door all the way—he stood near it with his arms crossed, watching me.
“We came here like you asked. So, how about taking off the hood?”
“Waah…”
I really must have been drunk. The moment I realized we were alone somewhere no one else would come, tears suddenly began to fall from my eyes.
‘Emile and Rosian… both of them are so cruel.’
Just thinking about them brought a flood of betrayal and resentment crashing over me. I dropped to the floor with a thud.
“Waah! They’re so mean! I hate them both!”
“Hey! Why are you crying all of a sudden?”
“Waaah! It’s so unfair! My fiancé and my friend turned out to be lovers!”
“What are you talking about?”
As I sat there sobbing uncontrollably, the man seemed flustered but eventually walked over to me.
The handkerchief he held out didn’t quite match his rough appearance—it was clean and neatly folded.
“Here. Wipe your tears first.”
“Yes, thank you…”
My tear ducts must have been broken. I kept thinking I should stop crying, but the moment I took the handkerchief, fresh tears blurred my vision once again.
“Sniff… How could they do this to me? How could the two of them lie to me like that…”
“… Hey.”
The man let out a long sigh. Then, slowly, he sank down beside me with a heavy thud. Even as I sobbed uncontrollably, I turned to glance at him. He had turned his head away, deliberately avoiding looking at me, and spoke in a gruff tone.
“Just cry it all out first. Then we’ll talk.”
“… You’re a good person.”
“I’m not a good person. It’s just that you’re crying so much, it’s impossible to have a conversation. That’s all.”
“That’s what makes you a good person.”
“… If you say so.”
Still sniffling, I looked down at the handkerchief he had handed me. It was plain and rough, without even a name embroidered on it.
“What’s with this handkerchief? It’s so ugly.”
At my comment, the man frowned and finally looked back at me.
“Then give it back if you don’t want it.”
“If you took it back, you’d be a bad person.”
“I was a bad person from the start.”
Liar. Someone who lends a handkerchief, there’s no way a person like that could be bad.
“… Thank you.”
I had to repay someone this kind.
“Wait, Miss. What are you doing?”
“Just give me a moment.”
I pulled a needle from the sewing pouch I always carried. But maybe because I was drunk, I couldn’t quite see the thread.
‘Huh? What’s going on? Why isn’t it working?’
While I was tilting my head in confusion, he reached out his large hand and said,
“You’re drunk and trying to use a needle—it’s dangerous. Give it here.”
“Dangerous? A needle?”
Needles weren’t dangerous at all.
‘Needles have been my friend ever since I was little.’
Maybe even since I was in my mother’s womb. Always, forever.
〈With a needle and thread, you can be a marvelous sorceress too, Yvonne.〉
A voice I barely remembered—my mother’s—seemed to brush past my ear like a whisper.
Enchanted, I brought the needle to my lips and kissed the tip.
In that moment, the needle—still unthreaded—began to move on its own, swish-swish.
“Hehe.”
The wide-eyed look he gave me seemed less like shock and more like a soft, bemused smile, like he was watching something unbelievable unfold right before him. And then, I collapsed with a soft thud. Everything went black.
